[ So he's not just back to normal - Carlisle's feeling better than he did when he was alive! That's all the confirmation Qubit needs; he immediately drops any pretense of hiding his excitement. ]
Astounding! Carlisle, that's wonderful!
[ Rather than pilot the righted crab away, he decides to go retrieve it himself, striding into the kill zone with an unmistakeable spring in his step. (It's probably safe now, right? Yeah, he's not dead yet, it's fine.) ]
No need to apologize, it's no trouble at all. [ He's your friend, Carlisle, it comes with the territory. I mean, sure, he hasn't slept much over the past few days, but that's not so unusual for him. And it's not like he got dragged away from anything time-sensitive. ] Anyway, this has given me some valuable insights. I think you'll find them quite illuminating.
[ He picks up the crab and inspects it briefly before tucking it under his arm. The controller ends up in his coat pocket, though the antenna remains sticking two or three feet out of it. If Qubit notices this oversight, he doesn't seem to care, as he's still chattering a mile a minute. ]
I'm still running some preprocessing on the data, but that shouldn't take long - we can review it whenever you're ready. Your glyph worked perfectly, by the way, I had virtually no issues with the cameras. Oh - let's stop by the pasture first, though, there's something I want to show you. In the meantime, what was your experience like? Tell me more about that. When you say, "I wasn't here" - what do you mean by that? Were you dreaming?
[Though he has no idea what data Qubit could have possibly gleaned from his devices while he was sleeping, Carlisle can't help but be encouraged by his friend's optimistic chatter. Maybe that's just how wonderful he feels talking, but he finds Qubit's energy to be surprisingly contagious. Despite how dubious Carlisle had been in his last waking moments about those glyphs, he's delighted to hear they worked — smiling at the prospect, even.
He tries to answer Qubit's questions as they prepare to meander toward the field. Are the cows okay? Surely the cows are okay. Qubit would have said something if the cows weren't okay, right? Or maybe what he wants to show Carlisle has to do with Scraps.
Oh, perhaps he's finally gone, Carlisle considers. The very thought makes him perk up as he starts talking.]
I don't know, honestly. I certainly had a dream the last time I tried this concoction, though my enchantment was not as strong then. Before I passed out, there was this brief... [He waves a circle with one hand, as though trying to conjure the correct word from thin air.] Distance from my body, as though I were simultaneously there and not. Cisth, I feel better than I've felt in so long, and I still cannot describe it properly. Does that help? Or make any sense at all? And it's so quiet now! Has it always been this quiet?
[Forgive him, Qubit — he's just excited to not have a consistent, maddening hum competing with his every waking thought for a change. It's still there, as that's the magic keeping him animated, but the current is so much calmer than it was before, as though it has nowhere in particular to be.]
[ Once Carlisle's got his things together, Qubit will lead them back toward the homestead and pasture, setting a brisk pace. They're only about five minutes out, so they'll come up on the fence in short order.
He quickly catches on to what Carlisle means by quiet; it's to do with how he perceives his own energies, which he's often described as a near-auditory phenomenon, not unlike the low-grade hum Qubit "hears" from electronics. Up until now, though, he's characterized the sound as incessant and cacophonous, deafening, even maddening. ]
I suppose it has! [ He laughs. ] That's interesting. Sort of an out-of-body experience, then? - [ quickly ] I mean - that's a colloquialism, it doesn't necessarily mean you were detached from your body, just refers to a certain sort of perceived dissociation - although given the circumstances and your unique mind-body connection, the literal option may actually be worth ruling out - but my point is -
[ Yeah, Qubit, what is your point? You remember periods? Those things you're supposed to end sentences with, occasionally? ]
- my point is, based on the note you left me, your spell was designed to essentially freeze your eksth'alva, correct? That is, you weren't trying to displace anything.
I wasn't, but it certainly felt like it from the inside. That begs the question of not only why that happened, but also if there are any consequences or lingering effects of such a phenomenon.
[He gesticulates with his free hand as he follows Qubit, sorting through his own guesses, hoping maybe some of that data Qubit was talking about might help paint a more complete picture of why he is the way he is.]
For example, Reynir visited me in that dream I had before. Literally visited, as it was within his capacity to do so. Did I only dream because of his presence? Or is my conscious somehow separate from the rest of me? If so, have I merely been- been possessing my own body all this time? And how? Was I exorcised, then drawn back? And who would have done so were that the case? Was the Blight Heir not a Revenant? And if not, what was he? And by extension...
[His voice slows with his gait, his brow furrowing.]
[ Those are all fascinating questions, naturally, but there sure are a lot of "if so" clauses in there. Noticing Carlisle starting to lag behind, Qubit matches his pace, giving him a reassuring pat on the shoulder. ]
You're getting ahead of yourself, is what. [ A smirk. ] One thing at a time, all right? We will get into the hows and whys, but that comes after we nail down the what. Scientific method, remember?
[Carlisle nods, successfully reassured for the time being. Qubit's right that he's putting the cart before the horse, something he really ought not be doing when he just woke up from a magically-induced nap. They have enough questions to deal with before they get to the more nuanced angles of his existence. Once step at a time.]
Of course, of course. Forgive me, there's just a lot on my mind, and it's clearer than it's been in days. I'll consider these things when I can, but I want to hear about your findings, first.
[ Wow, Carlisle must be feeling phenomenal, if it's that easy to derail his existential navel-gazing. Qubit returns his nod, grinning. In fairness, he's feeling pretty phenomenal himself.
Three days. And unlike Carlisle, Qubit didn't get to sleep through them. It's never easy, the waiting game. This may come as a complete shock, but Qubit is not by nature a patient man. Obviously, he's no stranger to stress and uncertainty, but at least in an acute crisis there are things he can do about it. He's hated having to stand around twiddling his thumbs, waiting on the other shoe to drop, wondering how this might still manage to go wrong despite all their precautions...
... and then nothing went wrong. Carlisle came back, just as planned, and better than ever. The relief is extraordinary; it's no wonder he's a little lighter on his feet, and as eager to share his findings as his friend is to hear them. ]
Right. Well, as I'm sure you've guessed, the first thing has to do with Scraps.
[ They're coming up on the pasture fence now, and Qubit gestures broadly over it toward the lifeless pile of bones in the middle of the field, stark white against the green grass. ]
[ Then he double-takes, his grin fading to bewilderment as he realizes that yeah, it wasn't a trick of the light, those bones are unmistakably moving. ]
What? No! Are you kidding me?!
[ He rushes to the split-rail fence, his hands landing on the top rail as he leans far over it for a beter look. ]
[As Qubit runs to the fence, Carlisle follows leisurely behind him, missing the part where the skull that serves as Scraps' head rises from its spot on the grass. The aberration's spine comes together behind it, snaking into place as the fragmented femurs and arms that serve as its rib cage claw through the soil to form its hulking torso.
Carlisle cranes his neck once he gets close enough to the field to see what the hullabaloo is about; he assumes it'll be obvious, but by the time he reaches the fence, nothing seems out of place. There are a couple of cows in eyeshot, some reindire further back, and of course, Scraps. The nearest cow meanders toward the abomination the moment there's enough room for her to walk underneath, scratching herself on the jagged bones while her guardian stands there, unfazed by her presence. Though Carlisle does note that Scraps seems to be in a different arrangement from behind, nothing else seems out of the ordinary.
He leans left, then right, still looking before he glances at Qubit.]
He does seem to be missing his collar. [The collar in question, complete with bell, sits on the ground just beneath Scraps' feet. It seems it didn't get picked up when the bones were pulling themselves back together.]
[ Shooting an annoyed glance over his shoulder - ] That's because he didn't have a neck thirty seconds ago. [ He turns back to Scraps, watching the abomination idle among the herd. ] Carlisle, the moment you fell asleep, Scraps fell apart. For the last three days, he was nothing more than dry bones. I inspected them personally! This doesn't make sense.
[Oh, now Scraps has Carlisle's undivided attention. He comes up beside Qubit and leans on the fence, his eyes narrowing as though just looking at Scraps could tell him why that happened.]
You're certain? Yes yes, of course you're certain, but- but I've tried time and time again to rid this field of that creature, and it always comes back! It pieces itself together — without my permission, mind you, not that I would be granting any sort of permission for an undead abomination to exist in my presence — and stands there day and night without a care to be had. It's bound to me somehow, but how?
[ Admittedly, Qubit has a few ideas, as he's been puzzling over that very question for days. But those were all based on the premise that Scraps was permanently - well - scrapped. He's going to have to rework his hypothesis. ]
I don't know. But it must be continually drawing power from you, right? There's no other explanation. [ That he knows of, anyway. ] Tell me - what's your eksth'alva doing right now? Are you absolutely sure none of it's going to him?
[He closes his eyes, trying to focus. It's quieter now, clearer, and thus far easier to hone in on his own energies and where, exactly, they're going as they continually cycle through him. When he really concentrates, he can still feel the escape of his magic from his frame, oozing into the very air around him. One had tightens on the fence, the other pressing idly to his abdomen.]
But it is. It is my energy that animates him, and thus, he is revived again and again as dictated by my will. But I want him gone, so why does he remain?
[ Watching him, Qubit can't help but notice where his hand comes to rest for a second time. That's the location of Carlisle's curse scar - in a sense, the point where man and Revenant intersect. There is one hypothesis that still works in light of this new information, but... ]
Perhaps -
[ - he begins, but then shuts his mouth, reluctant to actually voice his thought. He probably should spit it out, he knows, but ... Carlisle's not going to like it. ]
[ Qubit takes a deep breath and sighs, slowly coming back to face him. ]
Perhaps it's not exactly your - dear God!
[ So apparently, at some point during the last five seconds, a reindire decided to wander up behind Carlisle, peering curiously at Qubit with glowing blue eyes. Did I mention it's dead? It's dead, by the way. Yeah, it's that reindire. ]
[Carlisle doesn't even turn to look at what it is that so startled Qubit before nearly leaping onto him; he trips over himself as he skitters to Qubit's side, barely regaining his balance before he turns to confront the threat. The reindire — what's left of it, with its skin hanging in some parts and one eye sinking into its socket — looks at him, the one eye it has left glowing with the same vibrant, blue illumination as Carlisle's and Scraps' own.]
[He rolls his eyes, all aggravation instead of agitation as he stomps over to the reindire. It continues to watch him with dim interest, its neck arcing as he gets close.]
You have no business being here.
[The deer doesn't budge. Carlisle throws his arms up and turns back toward Qubit, irritated.]
Well? Let's hear your theory. [Because acknowledging the existence of the enthralled reindire while discussing his obvious and uncontrollable tendencies for necromancy doesn't sound like a good time.]
[ Meanwhile, Qubit runs a hand up his forehead, baffled. This resurrection makes no sense. All other times, Carlisle's been under some form of stress. But if it walked all the way over here, it would have to have gotten up not long after Carlisle did. That initial burst of energy, then? Carlisle seemed to briefly think he was under attack, at first - is that all the time his Revenant instincts needed to call up a defender?
It seems to support what he was about to say, unfortunately. God damn it. He keeps his eye on the undead reindire, not entirely sure what it's going to do, though he trusts Carlisle to rein it in (so to speak) if the need arises. ]
First of all, it's a hypothesis. Not a theory. [ He's a scientist; he doesn't call things theories until he's practically certain. ]
I've begun to suspect... [ He shakes his head, deciding to pose it differently. ] Carlisle, when you're fully in control of yourself - what do you think happens to the Revenant in you? Where does it go?
[Carlisle puts a hand on the reindire's head and draws the energy from it; the beast collapses into a heap, much like the one he was crumpled in for three days. Dusting off his hands, he comes back to Qubit's side, his eyes on Scraps in the field. The abomination remains impassive to the fact Carlisle put another one of its kind out of its misery. It was not one of the herd.]
It is likely suppressed by my will, by who I am. I know not how it happened the first time, why I am aware when similar aberrations are not. It may be my true nature, but I refuse to succumb to it again. You know this.
[Carlisle is barely through that answer when the lights come back on in the reindire's eyes behind him, the glow dim, but visible even in the simulated daylight.]
[ Qubit folds his arms sternly. ] It's not your true nature. We've been over this.
[ Normally he wouldn't belabor the point further, but it sort of is the point this time. He pauses briefly, noticing the reindire's remaining eye coming back on - well, that's all we need, isn't it - but decides not to mention it just yet. ]
It's deeply connected to you, somehow, but it's not who you are. You said it yourself - who you are is what suppresses it. Your affliction is just that - a disease, an infection. [ He waves his hand vaguely, growing more vehement. ] There are - certain parasites that can alter the host organism's behaviors to their own advantage, and I think something similar may be going on here.
[Touched as he may be at Qubit's insistence that his Revenant nature is not his true one, but is something more akin to an infection, Carlisle's brow knits with immediate worry at the very prospect. Behind him, the reindire's neck lurches upward with its shoulders, its legs wobbling beneath it as it struggles to get to its feet, its body jerking as it animates bit by bit.]
I'm sorry, they what? Are you really comparing the nature of an aberration to something like a leech? Do leeches have the ability to compel people in your world, Mister Qubit?
[Because that sounds appalling. Maybe even more so than the whole being undead thing.]
What? No, it's mostly found in protozoa or helminths with insect hos- [ He shakes his head. ] Look, that's not the point. The point is - you hate the undead. You loathe necromancy. And yet things like this - [ he gestures to the reindire as it's getting back up ] - keep happening. Your own energies, reanimating the dead, without your consent or even conscious awareness.
[He turns as Qubit gestures, his expression souring, eyes narrowing as they land on the risen reindire; the creature looks up at Carlisle, hobbling the couple of steps to close the gap between them and itself. Carlisle groans, his fingers curling against his palms.]
What are you suggesting, then? I would stop this if I could. I've tried so many times with Scraps, and he simply rebuilds himself. It's frustrating, to say the very, very least.
[ Okay, no, this is threatening to become an argument, isn't it? Qubit closes his eyes and holds up his index finger for a second, and when he starts again, his tone is significantly gentler. ]
Sorry. I know it's frustrating. I didn't mean for that to sound like an accusation.
[ The reindire doesn't seem at all aggressive so far, though, so he approaches, slowly coming abreast of Carlisle. ]
What I mean is... it's the fact that this can still happen. Even when you're in full control of your faculties, even when you're actively countermanding your energies. That, to me, suggests that even when the Revenant is suppressed... [ he frowns apologetically ] ... it may not actually be dormant.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
superposition) wrote2019-09-06 02:00 am
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Astounding! Carlisle, that's wonderful!
[ Rather than pilot the righted crab away, he decides to go retrieve it himself, striding into the kill zone with an unmistakeable spring in his step. (It's probably safe now, right? Yeah, he's not dead yet, it's fine.) ]
No need to apologize, it's no trouble at all. [ He's your friend, Carlisle, it comes with the territory. I mean, sure, he hasn't slept much over the past few days, but that's not so unusual for him. And it's not like he got dragged away from anything time-sensitive. ] Anyway, this has given me some valuable insights. I think you'll find them quite illuminating.
[ He picks up the crab and inspects it briefly before tucking it under his arm. The controller ends up in his coat pocket, though the antenna remains sticking two or three feet out of it. If Qubit notices this oversight, he doesn't seem to care, as he's still chattering a mile a minute. ]
I'm still running some preprocessing on the data, but that shouldn't take long - we can review it whenever you're ready. Your glyph worked perfectly, by the way, I had virtually no issues with the cameras. Oh - let's stop by the pasture first, though, there's something I want to show you. In the meantime, what was your experience like? Tell me more about that. When you say, "I wasn't here" - what do you mean by that? Were you dreaming?
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He tries to answer Qubit's questions as they prepare to meander toward the field. Are the cows okay? Surely the cows are okay. Qubit would have said something if the cows weren't okay, right? Or maybe what he wants to show Carlisle has to do with Scraps.
Oh, perhaps he's finally gone, Carlisle considers. The very thought makes him perk up as he starts talking.]
I don't know, honestly. I certainly had a dream the last time I tried this concoction, though my enchantment was not as strong then. Before I passed out, there was this brief... [He waves a circle with one hand, as though trying to conjure the correct word from thin air.] Distance from my body, as though I were simultaneously there and not. Cisth, I feel better than I've felt in so long, and I still cannot describe it properly. Does that help? Or make any sense at all? And it's so quiet now! Has it always been this quiet?
[Forgive him, Qubit — he's just excited to not have a consistent, maddening hum competing with his every waking thought for a change. It's still there, as that's the magic keeping him animated, but the current is so much calmer than it was before, as though it has nowhere in particular to be.]
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He quickly catches on to what Carlisle means by quiet; it's to do with how he perceives his own energies, which he's often described as a near-auditory phenomenon, not unlike the low-grade hum Qubit "hears" from electronics. Up until now, though, he's characterized the sound as incessant and cacophonous, deafening, even maddening. ]
I suppose it has! [ He laughs. ] That's interesting. Sort of an out-of-body experience, then? - [ quickly ] I mean - that's a colloquialism, it doesn't necessarily mean you were detached from your body, just refers to a certain sort of perceived dissociation - although given the circumstances and your unique mind-body connection, the literal option may actually be worth ruling out - but my point is -
[ Yeah, Qubit, what is your point? You remember periods? Those things you're supposed to end sentences with, occasionally? ]
- my point is, based on the note you left me, your spell was designed to essentially freeze your eksth'alva, correct? That is, you weren't trying to displace anything.
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[He gesticulates with his free hand as he follows Qubit, sorting through his own guesses, hoping maybe some of that data Qubit was talking about might help paint a more complete picture of why he is the way he is.]
For example, Reynir visited me in that dream I had before. Literally visited, as it was within his capacity to do so. Did I only dream because of his presence? Or is my conscious somehow separate from the rest of me? If so, have I merely been- been possessing my own body all this time? And how? Was I exorcised, then drawn back? And who would have done so were that the case? Was the Blight Heir not a Revenant? And if not, what was he? And by extension...
[His voice slows with his gait, his brow furrowing.]
What am I?
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You're getting ahead of yourself, is what. [ A smirk. ] One thing at a time, all right? We will get into the hows and whys, but that comes after we nail down the what. Scientific method, remember?
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Of course, of course. Forgive me, there's just a lot on my mind, and it's clearer than it's been in days. I'll consider these things when I can, but I want to hear about your findings, first.
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Three days. And unlike Carlisle, Qubit didn't get to sleep through them. It's never easy, the waiting game. This may come as a complete shock, but Qubit is not by nature a patient man. Obviously, he's no stranger to stress and uncertainty, but at least in an acute crisis there are things he can do about it. He's hated having to stand around twiddling his thumbs, waiting on the other shoe to drop, wondering how this might still manage to go wrong despite all their precautions...
... and then nothing went wrong. Carlisle came back, just as planned, and better than ever. The relief is extraordinary; it's no wonder he's a little lighter on his feet, and as eager to share his findings as his friend is to hear them. ]
Right. Well, as I'm sure you've guessed, the first thing has to do with Scraps.
[ They're coming up on the pasture fence now, and Qubit gestures broadly over it toward the lifeless pile of bones in the middle of the field, stark white against the green grass. ]
Or what's left of -
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What? No! Are you kidding me?!
[ He rushes to the split-rail fence, his hands landing on the top rail as he leans far over it for a beter look. ]
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Carlisle cranes his neck once he gets close enough to the field to see what the hullabaloo is about; he assumes it'll be obvious, but by the time he reaches the fence, nothing seems out of place. There are a couple of cows in eyeshot, some reindire further back, and of course, Scraps. The nearest cow meanders toward the abomination the moment there's enough room for her to walk underneath, scratching herself on the jagged bones while her guardian stands there, unfazed by her presence. Though Carlisle does note that Scraps seems to be in a different arrangement from behind, nothing else seems out of the ordinary.
He leans left, then right, still looking before he glances at Qubit.]
He does seem to be missing his collar. [The collar in question, complete with bell, sits on the ground just beneath Scraps' feet. It seems it didn't get picked up when the bones were pulling themselves back together.]
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[Oh, now Scraps has Carlisle's undivided attention. He comes up beside Qubit and leans on the fence, his eyes narrowing as though just looking at Scraps could tell him why that happened.]
You're certain? Yes yes, of course you're certain, but- but I've tried time and time again to rid this field of that creature, and it always comes back! It pieces itself together — without my permission, mind you, not that I would be granting any sort of permission for an undead abomination to exist in my presence — and stands there day and night without a care to be had. It's bound to me somehow, but how?
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I don't know. But it must be continually drawing power from you, right? There's no other explanation. [ That he knows of, anyway. ] Tell me - what's your eksth'alva doing right now? Are you absolutely sure none of it's going to him?
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[He closes his eyes, trying to focus. It's quieter now, clearer, and thus far easier to hone in on his own energies and where, exactly, they're going as they continually cycle through him. When he really concentrates, he can still feel the escape of his magic from his frame, oozing into the very air around him. One had tightens on the fence, the other pressing idly to his abdomen.]
But it is. It is my energy that animates him, and thus, he is revived again and again as dictated by my will. But I want him gone, so why does he remain?
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Perhaps -
[ - he begins, but then shuts his mouth, reluctant to actually voice his thought. He probably should spit it out, he knows, but ... Carlisle's not going to like it. ]
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You sound as though you have more to say.
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Perhaps it's not exactly your - dear God!
[ So apparently, at some point during the last five seconds, a reindire decided to wander up behind Carlisle, peering curiously at Qubit with glowing blue eyes. Did I mention it's dead? It's dead, by the way. Yeah, it's that reindire. ]
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[He rolls his eyes, all aggravation instead of agitation as he stomps over to the reindire. It continues to watch him with dim interest, its neck arcing as he gets close.]
You have no business being here.
[The deer doesn't budge. Carlisle throws his arms up and turns back toward Qubit, irritated.]
Well? Let's hear your theory. [Because acknowledging the existence of the enthralled reindire while discussing his obvious and uncontrollable tendencies for necromancy doesn't sound like a good time.]
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It seems to support what he was about to say, unfortunately. God damn it. He keeps his eye on the undead reindire, not entirely sure what it's going to do, though he trusts Carlisle to rein it in (so to speak) if the need arises. ]
First of all, it's a hypothesis. Not a theory. [ He's a scientist; he doesn't call things theories until he's practically certain. ]
I've begun to suspect... [ He shakes his head, deciding to pose it differently. ] Carlisle, when you're fully in control of yourself - what do you think happens to the Revenant in you? Where does it go?
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[Carlisle puts a hand on the reindire's head and draws the energy from it; the beast collapses into a heap, much like the one he was crumpled in for three days. Dusting off his hands, he comes back to Qubit's side, his eyes on Scraps in the field. The abomination remains impassive to the fact Carlisle put another one of its kind out of its misery. It was not one of the herd.]
It is likely suppressed by my will, by who I am. I know not how it happened the first time, why I am aware when similar aberrations are not. It may be my true nature, but I refuse to succumb to it again. You know this.
[Carlisle is barely through that answer when the lights come back on in the reindire's eyes behind him, the glow dim, but visible even in the simulated daylight.]
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[ Normally he wouldn't belabor the point further, but it sort of is the point this time. He pauses briefly, noticing the reindire's remaining eye coming back on - well, that's all we need, isn't it - but decides not to mention it just yet. ]
It's deeply connected to you, somehow, but it's not who you are. You said it yourself - who you are is what suppresses it. Your affliction is just that - a disease, an infection. [ He waves his hand vaguely, growing more vehement. ] There are - certain parasites that can alter the host organism's behaviors to their own advantage, and I think something similar may be going on here.
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I'm sorry, they what? Are you really comparing the nature of an aberration to something like a leech? Do leeches have the ability to compel people in your world, Mister Qubit?
[Because that sounds appalling. Maybe even more so than the whole being undead thing.]
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What are you suggesting, then? I would stop this if I could. I've tried so many times with Scraps, and he simply rebuilds himself. It's frustrating, to say the very, very least.
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[ Okay, no, this is threatening to become an argument, isn't it? Qubit closes his eyes and holds up his index finger for a second, and when he starts again, his tone is significantly gentler. ]
Sorry. I know it's frustrating. I didn't mean for that to sound like an accusation.
[ The reindire doesn't seem at all aggressive so far, though, so he approaches, slowly coming abreast of Carlisle. ]
What I mean is... it's the fact that this can still happen. Even when you're in full control of your faculties, even when you're actively countermanding your energies. That, to me, suggests that even when the Revenant is suppressed... [ he frowns apologetically ] ... it may not actually be dormant.
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